Harry Potter: DADA teacher, Wrong Time Though
by Goose Girl18
Summary: Harry has just been accepted as DADA teacher by McGongall. But on his way out he knocks over a bell jar containg all the Time-Turner dust from the Dep. of Mysteries. Now he's way back in time with the same job only, he's teaching his parents?
1. Chapter 1: The Interview

It was late at night when Harry arrived at Hogwarts. A fog spread over the lawns, it ws the color of pearls; and so thick Harry felt like he could take a knife, slice it up, and have it for a snack. The castle where he had spent the bulk of his childhood, the good parts, loomed over head. It sparkled and glittered in the night like a lady in her many jewels.

Harry smiled, then frowned. If he was late Ginny was going to kill him. Since they had recently started dating againg, Harry fully realised what a stickler for time she was. He had to get this interview overwith, well maybe not over with, but done as quickly as possible.

"Lumos," he whispered. His wand suddenly glowed with a faint light, he let out a sigh. The wand had enough light so he could at least see if he was going to trip over a root or not on his way to the castle. He made his way quickly over the expanse of the lawn, dodging a tree root or a rock every now and again. It was a long time before the castle seemed to get any closer. Finally arriving at the huge wooden doors, he was out of breath. He looked at the doors and grinned, McGonagall had been busy as Headmistress. You could no longer tell that these huge wodden doors had once been subject to a battle that had nearly destroyed Hogwarts, and the Wizarding world as they knew it. Now they were carved with magicals symbols, and the mascot for each house. Harry put one hand on the door, and the door, recognising his magical signature, opened slowly. The 'creak' of the wooed was barely audible. Harry navigated his way through the maze of hallways, doors, and doors pretending to be walls with the ease of a seasoned vetran.

Finally arriving at the gargoyle, now restored, though a little deaf from the war, he asked to be let in.

"Password," croaked the gargoyle.

"Gillyweed," supplied Harry.

"Thank you. Good to see you again Mr. Potter," replied the gargoyle.

"Good to see you too," Harry said before ascending the staircase. He was then faced with the door to the office, "Professor McGonagall, Headmistress" it read.

Harry knocked three times before the words, "Come in Harry," reached his ears. Harry opened the door and was met by almost the exact same room Harry had left 4 years ago. There were a few minute changes here and there. Most of Dumbledore's strange object remained, but a few had been replaced by a large bell jar with swirling glass, a tin of biscuits, and oddly enough a ship in a glass bottle. The ship was obviously magical as it had small sailor battling a fierce storm inside the glass, but all the same, he had no idea Professor McGonagall was interested in anything nautical.

"Hello Harry," reached his ears, and his eyes shifted to the desk with Minerva Mcgonagall seated behind it. He smiled and greeted her with his eyes only slightly shifting to the paintings behind her. Dumbledore gave a quick wave and smiled, while Snape was clearly pretending to sleep. Though the drool, Harry concluded, was a bit much. Harry took off his long cloak, and hung it on the hook near the door.

"Would you like something to drink Harry?" McGonagall was stirring her own blue china tea cup with a spoon.

"Yes," Harry replied, "A green tea would be nice."

"Green tea?" McGonagall raised an eyebrow.

"Charlie recently returned from Japan, and brought the recipe back with him. Apparently a Chinese fireball somehow wound up at a...tree gazing ceremony, I think they called it? Anyway, I have been addicted to the stuff for three months." McGonagall chuckled, and with a quick wave, made a green tea appear, already piping hot. Harry picked it up off the desk and grinned. They drank in silence for a moment before McGonagall spoke again.

"Harry," she began, "I trust you know the reason I called you here?"

"Yes I do.," replied Harry, "You need a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher." Mcgonagall gave him a quick grin.

"Now," she went on, "I think I a quick floo interview would be nice, but the interviews for some reason or another are always face to face."

"I completely understand," replied Harry, "ask any questions you like." McGonagall gave him another grin, and picked up an official looking piece a of parchment an went down the list.

"Why did you apply for this position?" Began McGonagall.

"I want to teach the younger generations to properly defend themselves. I think that some were not quite as ready as they could have been during the war." McGongall gave a very sage like nod and went on to the next question.

"Are you properly trained in the art you plan to teach."

"Yes."

"If you had to be an animal, which would you chose?" It was around that question that Harry began to laugh uncontrollably.

"Yes Harry I know, that is a very silly , and I'm not sure which headmaster decided to put this on here, but there it is." The rest of the interview passed in a similar fashion, there would however be random spurts of laughter from Harry for some off the sillier questions, but most of the questions were perfectly reasonable.

At the end of the interview McGongall stood, her high backed chair made a rough kind of 'squeak' as she did so, and extended her hand.

"Congratulations Professor Potter," she proclaimed, "you got the job." Harry smiled more widely than he had since he got there. He, Harry was going to live at Hogwarts, his favorite place in the whole world, full time. He was going to teach his favorite subject full time as well. He and Ginny were going to go out in half an hour to celebrate. What in his world could possibly go wrong?

Now Fate, being the annoying tease it is, couldn't resist messing with Harry.

Shaking McGongall's hand goodbye, and waving farwell to Dumbledore and Snape, he threw his cloak back on. The heavy edge caught the side of the large bell jar with swirling dust he had seen when he had first entered. Then it was like slow motion, and Harry was able to percieve quite a few thing at once. He saw McGongall's horror stricken face, Dumbledore bolting out of his chair and shouting something, and of course the jar smashing into a thousand crystalline pieces while the dust puffed around him and erased the secen before him.


	2. Chapter 2: Arriving

**A/N: Kay, I never liked Author's Notes, so mine will be short and sweet. A big thanks to all of you who reviewed, I love you all so much, and if you have any ideas on what you would like Harry to do, I am open to suggestions. And I forgot the disclaimer last time so: I in no way, shape, or form own Harry Potter. That honor is reserved for J.K. Rowling.…lucky!!!**

Harry saw the world as if through a television. Nothing that was happening directly affected him, or even remotely involved him at the moment. It was as though he was watching a movie and someone had pressed the rewind button. But it was rewinding too fast for him to see. He knew this sensation, it was a time turner reaction! That stupid jar was filled with the dust of time turners! McGongall must have been trying to make more time turners for the ministry, or they might have given the dust to her for safe keeping. He tore his mind from these facts to try and see what was going on. It wasn't easy, trying to see out of the void in which he had accidentaly placed himself, was like trying to catch smoke with a butterfly net. Sometimes he saw glimpses of students or teachers, Dumbledore was a frequent 'almost glimpse', at one point Harry even thought he glimpsed himself talking to the sorting hat. That had been an unpleasant memory.

Days and night spun back so quickly it all appeared to Harry as if he were blinking quite rapidly.

Day, night, day, night.

Light dark, light dark.

It was terribly disconcerting. The world spun so much and so fast soon Harry didn't just feel like vomiting, he felt like throwing up his stomach, lungs, other various intestines. But as the world seemed to settle so did his stomach, though his brains still felt a bit scrambled. Harry closed his eyes for a moment trying to get his bearings. But in that brief moment his eyes were closed Harry heard an eye piercing shriek and was body slammed into the floor.

His eyes jarred open to review an irate Dumbledore with a wand pointing at Harry's throat, and a a stunned somewhat younger looking McGongall with one hand over her heart and another over her mouth. It was no obvious where the potential glass breaking shriek had come from.

Dumbledore's eyes were as Harry had never seen them. Normally when Harry saw Dumbledore's eyes they were like a clear blue lake; calm, serene, ever welcoming. But now his old professor's eyes were a glacial storm; harsh, menacing, and quite, quite deadly.

"Who are you? And why have you entered in such a manner?" Dumbledore's voice seemed to echo and fill his brain. Harry knew that it was some form of Legilimency, but it was far more powerful than anything he had experienced at the hands of Snape, or even Voldemort. This was on a whole different level, 'how,' he asked himself, 'did anyone defeat Dumbledore?'

"I- I'm," he stuttered, "I'm Ha- Harry Potter, and I-I th-think that it was a very severe time turner accident." Needless to say, Harry was scared out of his wits; meeting your almost-all-powerful deceased headmaster will do that to a person.

Harry thought he had seen the last of the physical Dumbledore at the pure white Kings Cross Station. The painting in no way counted, at least in Harry's mind it didn't. Dumbledore continued to stared at him for a long time; while Harry thought he could physically feel Dumbledore's own brain probing his own. Though it wasn't a severe as Snape's 'lessons' had been.

No, Harry just felt a vague feeling of reminisce, nostalgia even. Harry continued to stare at Dumbledore with a sort of pending sense of doom, before he finally saw a small glimmer of understanding in his eyes. Soon enough with even more staring involved, in which Harry began to grow very uncomfortable, Dumbledore smiled.

"You are, aren't you?" Harry smiled. Dumbledore knew, thank goodness, he wasn't going to be blasted into infinitely smaller pieces until he was no more. Hallelujah! Dumbledore was starting to say something again, he had better pay attention.

"I may no know who Harry Potter is yet," Dumbledore smiled at him, "but I know, for sure, you are him." Dumbledore reached a hand down to let him off the floor. Harry took the hand and slowly let himself up. That much time travel was the magical equivallent of muggle jet lag; a dragging sensation in which the body's, if you'll pardon the pun, 'clock' had not been properly set to the surroundings. When Harry had 'left' this office the last time it had been late at night, now it was near the end of the afternoon, almost sunset. Harry could see the sun through one of the office windows. It was a brilliant ruby that seemed to light the surrounding landscape, not to mention office, on fire. Harry looked around a little more.

McGongall was somewhere to his right, still had one hand over her heart, though she had closed her mouth by now. She was younger, her face less severe and pinched than it had been when Harry had last seen it. There were a good deal less lines on her face, she was somewhere around 30 years younger. She was probably around 40 to 45 years old, maybe even a young looking 50 year old. Dumbledore, however, remained less changed. His beard reached somewhere around midchest, and was suprisingly shot through with strands of brown, but his outfits were still long and his boots were still pointed and buckled.

The office was not very different, there were, obviously, none of Professor McGongall's things around. There were a few machines, or maybe devices was the right term, that had previously puffed, whirled, dinged, or rotated, that had not been placed yet. All of the portraits, excluding Snape and Dumbledore, were still hanging. Quite a few were staring open mouthedly at Harry, a few had even whipped out old fashioned binoculars to get a closer look at Harry.

"Professor," aksed Harry. Dumbledore smiled and indicated that he was to go on with his question, "May I have a chair? I haven't quite gotten my bearings yet."

"Certainly dear boy," replied Dumbledore. A small twist of the wrist, and near Harry a comfy looking armchair had appeared. Harry eased himself into it, an sat for a moment. As he sat he had realised, he had neglected to ask a very important question.

"Professor," Harry asked hurridely, "what year is it?"

Dumbledore looked gravelly at him and said, "1972."


	3. You're hired! again

**Hi** **everybody. I love reviews and if you have any plot twists in mind, send them! I love plot twists. J.k. Rowling, the genius that she is, owns Harry Potter, not me. Shorter this time, sorry.**

"1973?" Harry asked. Dumbledore smiled, nodding cautiously. Harry did some quick mental calculations it had been 2003 when he had left. That meant...he went back thirty years!

Dumbledore knew the effects of some time travellers. He had once witnessed a friend come back a few years by accident, who then witnessed himself and very nearly went mad. Time turners had been relatively new then, so the shock was quite something. That had only been a few years, Dumbledore couldn't imagine the effects of coming back decades. He smiled at Professor McGongall who was sneaking small, frequent glances at Harry. One couldn't really blame her, it wasn't everyday a time traveller appeared in the headmasters office. Then again with Albus who knew?

Harry was still reeling with shock, thirty years, thirty years, the date went over and over again in his head like a recording set on a loop. It was so long. None of his friends would be alive. It would mean that their parents, though not many, as quite a few would be graduated or already in the work force. But still, some of them would be here, and if his friend's parents would be here, that meant...his own parents would be here!

Harry was ecstatic. His parents were alive and here. He could talk with them and learn about them, he could, he could. But the high of having his parents alive and well was quickly wearing off. They had to be about thirteen or fourteen right now. Also, his mother was still friend with Severus, his father and his friends may or may not have created the Maurauder's map. Not to mention how his parents still hated each other. But maybe Harry could, no, no, no. Harrry couldn't interfere, he might create it so all of the future events, good and bad, never happen. Harry had to interfere as little as possible.

While Harry sat in the armchair pondering all this, Porfessors Dumbledore and McGongall discussed Harry.

"But Albus," complained McGongall,"we can't just let him run wild. He could destroy a very important event in someone's life, or something big in general to happen, or never happen. We have to keep him away."

"On the contrary Minverva," replied Dumbledore, "in my experience, time has a way of working itself out. Let the man decided what to do, then we will help him to the best of our ability." Professor McGongall peered at Dumbledore shrewdly.

"You just want a chance to see how things will turn out while he's here, don't you?" It was more of a statement than a question. And Dumbledore had to chuckle. Minvera was a tricky one, you couldn't pull anything over her.

"Hey," exclaimed Harry, "Don't talk about me like I'm not here." Both professors jumped a little, they weren't expecting Harry to snap out of his time shock so fast. Harry had always been adaptabl, and now he was adapting again.

"Now,"continued Harry," what is the exact date?" Dumbledore thought for a moment, genius he may be but he was hopeless at remembering the date. In the end it was McGongall who replied.

"August the thirtieth." she said. Harry thought for a while, he closed his eyes, and breathed deeply through his nose. This was a meditation routine the Hermoine had taught him. It was also the thinghe used when he wanted to concentrate. It was a long moment before any of them spoke. Finally Harry spoke again.

"Have you found a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for this year?" Dumbledore and Professor McGongall looked at each other, suprised. It was one of the reasons that Minerva had come to talk to Albus, they needed a teacher before the day was up and none of them had met the specific requirements.

"No," Dumbldore responded looking at Harry the familiar twinkle in his eye, "Do you have anyone in mind?"

Harry simply smiled and said, "Yes, I believe I do."


	4. Professor Evans

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The Great Hall was always a sight to behold on the first day of school. The candles glowed softly, illuminating every corner freshly cleaned stone. While the charmed ceiling was cloudless and glittered with hundreds of thousands of stars. The teachers, all except McGongall and newly appointed gamekeeper Hagrid, and all the students, except the first years were seated patiently awaiting those who had yet to arrive.

The second and up year students looked up at the new teacher, he was seated on the right hand of Dumbledore, whispering in his ear. Suddenly Dumbledore threw his head back and laughed. Apparently whatever he had said was funny. He was in his early twenties, his skin was a light tan color from being outdoors so much. His hair was light blond and tied into a long ponytail by a strap of leather. His eyes were very dark. He wore no teacher robes, but a pair of dark jean and a long, red, button up shirt. He was like no teacher the students had ever seen.

A whisper down the line of the Ravenclaw table annouced that he must be their new Defense against the Dark Arts Teacher. A few more whispers revealed that not even the students who parents were the best connected knew who he was. More whispers told that not even the teacher had told anyone about this new teacher. Apparently he was no one from no where that had showed up a very short time ago and had gotten the job with very little effort.

The long doors opened and the hall fell silent, small first years entered in; their eyes were wide open in wonder at the hall ceiling opened up to the night sky. A few who quickly overcame the ceiling looked eagerly at the stool in front of the teachers. On the stool was a very old hat. Suddenly the brim of the hat ripped open, the rip became a mouth and the hat began to sing. It sang of being placed in different houses, of bravery and cleverness, of loyalty and cunning, of house colors, and friendship. The students were soon sorted, the new teacher watched them all with a face of wonder as each new name was called: Eric Abbott, Bertram Aubrey, Alderton Avery, Arcturus Black, Edgar Bones, and many others. Then when all were seated in their new houses Dumbledore stood.

"Hello," he started, "I welcome you all to this wonderful place. I would like to say a few words: bluejay, snooker, the number seven. Enjoy."

Then suddenly there was food. It wasn't just a meal, it was a banquet. Food from all the corners for the world were stacked in gold platters, and iced pumpkin juice filled crystal goblets. Then when almost all the food had been scrape from the platters, dessert appeared. It took a great deal of doing, and many had to find room in their stomachs for the tarts, iced cream, and pies that had magically appeared. Then finally when all were sleepy, and waiting to be excused Dumbledore stood.

The older man spread his arms wide, his dark blue robes caught the candle light and shimmered slightly.

"I have a few announcements: first off I would like to welcome our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher Professor Harry Owen Evans." An outbreak of whispers broke out across Great Hall like the hiss of many candles going out, and a red-headed girl started at the mention of her last name. Dumbledore waited patiently for the whispers to stop. He had been proud of Harry for recognising that he could not go out into the world as he looked, he looked too much like his adolescent father for had spent some time and quite a few spells to make him look the way he did now. But, it had taken longer to come up with a name. Harry had been unwilling to give up his first name, but the middle and last name he was perfectly willing to leave.

"Yes, yes," said Dumbledore, "But there are other announcements: Quidditch tryouts will be held around one month from now, specific dates will be given out by the Heads of your Houses. Mr. Filch has announced that despite your best efforts to get rid of him last year," at this point he looked pointedly at a certain group of third years: four boys that had become some of the best troublemakers Hogwarts had seen so far, "he has in fact returned. He has also brought with him a brand new set of rules that he is certain will, I believe the term was 'straighten out all the miscreants'. If you wish you may check this list in his office at the end of the feast. Well, prefects, lead the younger ones to the dorms, and everyone else good night."

The sound of the benches scraping back was deafening, and a sea of black robes swept toward the giant oak doors at the end of the hall. Newly dubbed Professor Evans and Professor Dumbledore made their way to a small door at the opposite end of hall. Professor Evans bade dumbledore good night and made his way to his own room. There he got ready for bed and laid down, and stared out his window, silently wishing for a time that was not this one.


	5. Class begins

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns ,and always will own, Harry Potter. Big thanks to everyone who reviewed. Your ideas for plot twists were greatly appreciated.**

James was excited for the new professor. The ones in his first two years had been terribly dull, and they had no sense of humor when it came to pranks. The last one had run out of the school screaming when he had been attacked by his own shoes and oddly enough something Peter insisted was called a rubber duck. This teacher promised to be more of a challenge.

Sirius had just told a joke and James was laughing when they entered the classroom. But when the saw the place they all stopped laughing and dropped their jaws instead. It was indescribably wicked, different creature were either sleeping, playing, or scratching in their cages. Their were charts for different spells, defensive or otherwise, plastered against the walls. And in the back of the room a bookcase dominated the whole wall.

"I don't know about you mates," James said to the fellow Marauders, "but I think I'm going to like Professor Evans." The others bobed their heads in agreement. They all found seats in the middle of the classroom and sat waiting for the mysterious new professor.

Suddenly the back door opened to reveal Professor Evans himself. He was twirling his wand between his fingers, and whistling happily. He walked to the front of the room and around the front of his desk. He then hopped up on the desk and sat down completely ignoring the chair a mere two feet from him. He looked around the room, and made eye contact with most of the children in the class. Some he looked at longer than others, a small smirk was on his face.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts was my favorite subject as a child," Professor Evans started, "It was made all the better by great teachers. My favorite by far turned out to be a werewolf. Ah werewolves, terribly misunderstood race." Remus looked up with a startled expression, the Professor was openly admitting his favorite teacher was a werewolf. He admitted that they were misunderstood. Did he know that Remus was a werewolf?

"Now," continued the Professor, "You may address me as Professor Evans, and I will respond with Ms., or Mr. Insert-your-name-here, or if you are particularly daring, you may call me Harry. If you do that I will call you by your first name or however I see fit. Understood?" Some of the class looked terribly excited at the idea of addressing one of their Professors by their first name. It made them all feel so grown-up. Harry smiled at that, when Professor McGongall had asked him to call him Minerva for the first time he had smiled that same smile.

"Does anyone have any questions on what we will be covering this year, or about myself?" Harry's grin grew wider as several hands shot up at once. He pointed to a blond girl that he suspected of being Susan Bone's mother or Aunt.

"Name, and favorite subject before the question please." The girl smiled.

"Amelia Bones, favorite subject: Transfiguration," Ah, the aunt then, "Harry, where did you got to school?"

"Well, Amelia I never actually went to a former school, I travelled alot. My parents were nomads, sort of. We never stayed in one place for long, I have met many people and learned various spells subjects from anyone my parents introduced me to. Next question." James put up his hand, and Harry happily picked him.

"James Potter prankster extraordinaire, favorite subject: Defense against the Dark Arts. If you had to pick the most awesome magical object you could think of what would it be?" Harry grinned, and decided to plant a thought in James head.

"Well, I think I would like a map that showed everything and everyone and what they're doing every minute of everyday." James kept an easy smile on his face, but Harry saw his eyes grow slightly wider. 'Interesting' Harry thought, 'I am the big idea for the Marauder's Map. That's wicked. Harry picked Lily next. When he saw her in the room he had wanted to run over and hug her. But this was not, nor ever would be the time, he was just going to have to content himself with the fact he could talk to her at all, and she wasn't dead.

"Lily Evans, favorite subject: Charms. What are their names? Your parents I mean, if your don't mind Harry?" Harry's answer caught in his throat. He couldn't say Lily and James, now could he? ...Could he? Why not, he decided. Harry grinned.

"I don't mind if you ask Lily. Ironically Lily, my mother's name was Lily, and my father's name was James. Maybe this is a sign?" The class began to laugh, James looked like someone had told him he had won the lottery, and Lily looked mortified. Harry saw another hand and the questions went on. Not surprisingly no one had asked about what they were going to learn this year.

When their time had run out and the class left for their next class Harry smiled. He was going to like it here, in this time, if only for a little while...maybe.

At dinner at the end of the week word had gotten around the school. Professor Evans, or Harry, depending on who you talked to, was one of the most interesting teacher the school had ever had.

Flitwick had taken an instant liking to him, especially when Harry had asked him if he could pick his brain on a few charms that he was still fuzzy on. Flitwick always liked people who wanted to keep on learning.

McGongall also liked him, he blended perfectly into the character he was playing. He even asked her about all the current events to make sure he didn't slip up.

Hagrid like him, Harry had gone to Diagon Alley early in the morning and had while he had been their Harry had gotten him a puppy as a congratulations on getting promoted gift. Hagrid was still trying to come up with a name. Hagrid rather like the name Fluffy, but at a suggestion from Harry he was starting to lean toward the name Fang.

Professor Slughorn liked him. Harry was sure to go far in the world, and if Horace could persuade him properly he could have influence over him in the years to come. A few well placed letters, maybe a floo trip or two and Harry would be forever thanking him.

Dumbledore especially liked him. Harry was even sharper than McGongalland liked discussing the finer point of the universe, including whether magical candy was better than muggle candy. Harry had brought up a muggle candy: lemon drops. They sounded delicious.


	6. Chats

**Hey I love reviews! Disclaimer: I don't own any of Harry Potter or any of the other characters. Enjoy!**

The clink of china resonated through the room, Harry was taking his normal weekend tea with Professor Dumbledore. It had been almost a month since Harry had unwittingly arrived in a time no where near his own.

"Albus," Harry sighed, "You can't just do that." Harry wasn't particularly angry, this had been the fifth time that Dumbledore had tried to get into Harry's head. Harry had let Dumbledore knock, figuratively speaking, on the doorway of Harry's thoughts for a while, and when Harry refused to answer Dumbledore got a battering ram. Harry had to intercede at this point telling Albus to back off. And for a while Dumbledore had retreated, but soon enough he was back again.

"I don't see why not," Albus replied.

"Because you know as well as I that anything I tell you about the future the more you are likely to change it." Harry had already done some things he shouldn't have, such as getting Hagrid Fang or the Marauder's map for instance. But, Harry was cautious about what he did and said. Although it was nice to talk to Albus as himself, and not as Professor Evans.

"I supose your right, but that doesn't keep me from wanting to know. Especially since I am as curious as I am."

"I know. Now, if you are purposing what I think you're purposing I can tell you right now it won't work."

Harry and Albus had been discussing different ways to return Harry to his own time, and Dumbledore's most recent theory was a very powerful reverse charm on a time-turner. Harry pointed out that it might not return him to his time but rather stop the 'stop going backwards thing' on the time-turner.

Dumbledore was looking a little crestfallen but was not to be deterred. He loved a challenge, and Harry's situation was one of the puzzling, therefore most exciting, challenges he had come up against.

Harry finished with his green tea, he was still addicted no matter what time he was in, and stood to leave, but at the doorway he asked,

"Albus, do you think I could borrow Fawkes for a while?" Fawkes had recently gone through his reincarnation process and was still the size of a very small hatch ling.

"I don't see why not Harry, but you might want to ask Fawkes." Harry raised one eyebrow up at the crimson colored bird and it hopped off it's perch and Harry managed to catch it before it hit the ground.

"You know Fawkes," Harry whispered to the bird, "you and I need to talk. I have something say, in fifteen or twenty years I need you to do for me. You know when it'll be time," Harry left the office talking rather animatedly, but quietly to the bird. Dumbledore was left a little miffed, brilliant and beautiful Fawkes may be, but why wouldn't Harry tell him about the future?

*******

Lily didn't particularly Professor Evans, it was his fault for all the recent comments about James and herself becoming a loving couple. But the Professor was rarely seen in the hallways or simply out and about, he had always been seen in his class room or at meal time, so she never really expected to run in to him. So of course it came as a shock to stumble across him on a sunny Saturday afternoon.

The afternoon was calm and sunny. The lake was smooth, except for the giant tentacles that sometimes rippled the water gently, and the giant oak was just beginning to change its colors from a sunny emerald green, to different mellow shades of yellow and orange. Lily had finished her Transfiguration homework and was just contemplating whether it was worth going all the way back to the Great Hall for an apple. She had decided, if her rumbling stomach was anything to go by, that it was worth going back when she quite literally tripped over the Professor.

Harry had taken a nap and had laughed at her stunned expression to find him all the way out here. He had asked what she was doing when she woke him and she had replied going to get a snack. Harry had smiled and patted the spot next to him. Lily had taken the seat with a certain amount of caution.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Watch," replied Harry. Harry pointed his wand at a low hanging branch and whispered a few words. Lily grew enchanted as she watched two perfectly golden apples appear on the tree, only to drop into their waiting laps.

"Can you teach me?" Lily had asked excitedly. This spell would come in handy later on, especially when she felt to lazy to go all the way back to the Great Hall. Harry laughed.

"Of course," he replied, and as he began to teach her the pronunciation he told her where the spell had come from.

"My best friends married each other a few months ago. And she quickly began to discover that he was always hungry, and during one of his cravings for fruit she invented this spell. Of course apples don't grow on an oak tree, but there isn't always an apple tree around, so she made the spell ignore that bit and conjured apples. She had others for oranges, and pineapple, one for water melon, even one for a zucchini. Though I don't what Ron would want with a zucchini."

"My friend is always doing that too. Inventing spells I mean." She added the last bit in answer to Harry's questioning gaze. Harry smiled, he always seemed to be smiling at people, at least that what Lily thought.

"Who?" he asked quietly.

"My best friend in the whole world: Severus." Lily was so proud of Severus, he was very clever, especially at Potions.

"I know him," Harry replied, "he seems to be making the wrong types of friends lately though, not you I promise" He added when Lily looked hurt. "You might want to talk to him, ask him what's going on. It's not my place you see, to interfere like that, but Severus seems like a good kid, just a little lost." Lily had sat there for a minute, her brain quickly making all the connections that Harry had just mentioned, he was right. Lily nodded her head, she woud talk to Severus, oh yes.

"Professor?" she asked tentatively.

"Yes, Miss Evan," he replied.

"Harry," she started again with a rueful smile, "do you mind if I come again to talk to you?" Harry smiled, delighted.

"Of course," he thoguht for a minute, "how about every other weekend around two we meet here. We'll talk about anything you like, that is if all your homework if finished, and if it isn't I'll help you." Lily smiled, and waved good bye to Harry. She was going to have to change her mind about the Professor.

As soon as Lily was out of sight, Harry pulled a small red bird from the nest of his cloak and asked, "What do you think Fawkes? Isn't she a grat mother, even as a thirteen year old?"


	7. Quidditch

**A/N: Hello, It's been a while since I updated, but here it is. Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling is the author, not me.**

The air was crisp and the wind was not a sigh but rather a whistle in the ears of all who heard it. The sun tried to beat down on the Quidditch pitch like a jackhammer but the feeble rays were to pale and tired from the quickly approaching winter to manage it. James took a deep breath and felt like he was trying to suck in all that was Quidditch: the adrenaline, the feel of his broom handle, the rush of wind when you took a steep dive. Oh yes, he wanted to suck into a bottle, put a cork in it, and carry it around forever. James breathed out and smiled, it was one of those rare days when he had no homework to be completed, no Quidditch drills to run, no pranks to pull, one of those day when he could just fly around and no one would care.

James, eager to be off, mounted his broom and kicked off from the short brown grass. No matter how many times it happened, it always managed to take his breath away. The sensation of leaving your stomach far on the ground beneath you and the over-whelming sense of true confidence: it was the feeling of flying. James whooped with a rush of joy as he dipped under stands, weaved through goal posts, and dived until he felt like his nose was going to skim the ground. He landed lightly, and brushed his hands over his windswept hair, he loved the feeling of his hair after a fly like that. It was like the wind was still passing through it, hidden somewhere in the messy mop that was his unmanageable hair.

Then there was clapping, it was loud, and from in the same direction came someone's laughter. James knew that laugh, it was high and had all the charm of a golden bell suddenly rattling: it was Lily's laugh. James turned, fully ready to turn on the charm in an effort to make her notice him, but it wasn't Lily. Where, his still wind scrambled brain thought, did Professor Evans come from?

"Harry," James exclaimed, he was surprised. He thought he knew that laugh like he knew his own, so why did come from Harry's mouth?

"Yes James?" Harry responded with a lazy smile as graceful as Sirius's.

"I- I didn't know, I mean wh-why are you?" James trailed off, puzzled; he rarely stuttered. He was James- freakin' Potter, he did not stutter, at all. Well, maybe he stuttered when there was talk of Lily around, but he had never stuttered in front of a teacher, not even one as cool and as easy going as Harry. Harry still had the lazy smile on his face when he glanced to his right, that when James noticed the broom.

"I had the same idea you had, but silly students who can't tell a boggart from a hinkypuck kept me. Well, except this one student whose greatest fear was a hinkypuck, so it was rather hard to tell how to grade that one." James smirked quickly, he knew that person. It was probably a person from his second year. That had been the year they had chucked nearly a dozen people into the lake and two had almost drowned. Harry had some all-knowing grin plastered on his face that told James to stop smirking, because the Professor probably knew exactly why that person's greatest fear was a hinkypuck.

It irritated all the Marauders to no end. That grin that somehow registered in their brains as "I know why you look like that, and I know all that your doing, but don't worry I won't tell". Dumbledore sometimes gave off that vibe, but the Headmaster's look was a twinkle in the eye rather than a grin.

"What?" James snapped, then mentally winced. Lay-back or not Harry was still a teacher and could give detentions like the rest of them. But harry simply smiled wider and grabbed his broom. Kicking off with all the gracful quality of a panther James watched as Harry did a series of incredible acrobatics, sharp turns, and dives so steep that Harry reached out and brushed the grass lightly with the tips of his fingers. As time wore on, the acrobatics grew more and more complex James favorite by far, had been when Harry had flipped from broom and had been thrown forward only to reach back and grab the broom, and get on as though nothing had happened. When he finally landed James rushed twoard him with unspeakable wonder.

"Wha-wha- how?" For the love of everything holy and magical, he was stuttering, again! Harry kept smiling his easy smile, and quickly explained that he had a friend who was a international Quidditch player. The circumstances in which they met had been though some kind of contest, in which Harry had been to young, but had been allowed to participate anyway.

James had walked away with a rather stunned expression. Harry had a friend on a Quidditch team, who apparently, knew all kinds of incredible tricks with a broom. And Harry was willing to part with all those tricks under the condition that James beat the Slytherins in the next Quidditch match by at least one hundred points. He had been smiling that all knowing smile, so that put James in the mind to wonder if Harry already knew excatly how the match was going to turn out.

But this new thought put James on a different train of thought. No one knew anything about the Professor, not where he came from or what he did before Hogwarts, or even how old he was. Professor Harry Owen Evans was a mystery wrapped in an enigma tapped to a puzzle. So what better fun could there, thought James, than to figure out Harry.

James was so wrapped in his own thought that he didn't hear Harry whistle lightly, or see a bright gold and crimson bird fly out from it's hiding place among the Gryffndor stand to land lightly on Harry's shoulder. James also didn't hear Harry whisper to the bird, "I always wanted to see where my Quidditch skills came from."


	8. The Plan

**A/N: A big thanks to all of you who reviewed, I love you all so much, and if you have any ideas on what you would like Harry to do, I am open to suggestions. Disclaimer: I in no way, shape, or form own Harry Potter. That honor is reserved for J K Rowling.…lucky!!!**

Sirius slammed his fist onto the desk, startling all the Marauders and not to mention a study group a few tables away.

"I'm bored," he added a huff to further this statement. It had been weeks since they had pulled their last prank, and so far the only interesting things were Harry's lessons. It had only been last week when brought something called a boggart and let it loose one some Cornish pixies. He had said they were natural enemies and that they should know what happened when magical creature fight each other. That had been a lesson to remember, and the only thing most people learned was, when magical creature fight, run far, far, far, AWAY.

"Well you could always do the homework McGongall assigned us," Remus supplied, "you still haven't finished."

"Well that will do nothing to alleviate my boredom now will it Moony," Sirius barked back.

"We could go tickle the giant squid," offered Peter.

"It's been done," Sirius was becoming frustrated, if there wasn't anything to do now, what would happen next year? Had they done everything there was to be done? What would they do with the rest of their time? They couldn't just twiddle their thumbs for the next four year, and they couldn't take Moony's suggestion and do _*shudder* _homework.

"I have an idea," James said. Sirius immediately sat up straighter, James had been staring into space for a while now with that unfocused look in his eye that screamed 'I'm thinking about something right now, don't bother me'. When James had that look he was normally planning something big.

"What James?" asked Peter eagerly. Peter knew that look as well, and was always happy to participate. Even Remus had dared to look up from the enormously think leather bound volume he had been reading.

"You know Professor Evans?" Sirius reeled from that statement, he under no conditions, no matter how bored he was, under any conditions, wanted to take Harry on again. He was still blowing Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans out his nose.

"I'm not saying we prank him," James added hurriedly, he wasn't that stupid. "I'm just saying, no one knows anything about him. I mean nothing. The wizarding community isn't all that large, at least not compared to Muggles, and most wizards and witches know each other in one form or another. So how is it possible someone who's been around the world, is able to come here and have absolutely no one know him. He knows International Quidditch players! How can no one here know him?!" James finished his little rant and was breathing heavily, he had clearly thought a lot about this and was unwilling to let it go.

The other Marauders looked around, as if the answer to all those questions was hiding behind a book shelf, or under a desk. James was right.

"I don't know," said Sirius, "it could be he's pretty young, and he could be a muggle born."

"But," interuppted Remus, "he said his parents were nomads sort of and introduced him to people who taught him magic. So it stands to reason that they should know magic as well."

**Sorry it's short. It'll be longer next time**

"True," James said, "So I purpose this my fellow Marauders: we find out Professor Evan's whole history. It would come as a shock to him if we announced this in the middle of class."

The other Marauders got slow, sly grins to appear on thier faces. This was going to be alot of fun. Three of them were so enthralled by this idea that they didn't notice the bright red bird that had been watching them from the window. But one of them did notice, and followed the bird with his eyes down to the field, where he saw the bird land lightly on the shoulder of the Professor they had just been discussing.

However the were much too far away to hear Harry say to Fawkes "You think I should let them find out?"


	9. Forbidden Forest

**A/N: A big thanks to all of you who reviewed, I love you all so much, and if you have any ideas on what you would like Harry to do, I am open to suggestions. Disclaimer: For those who have been on Pluto recently (is Pluto even a planet anymore?) J. K. Rowling owns Harry Potter, not me.**

Remus breathing became restricted as the almost full moon slowly climbed its way into the sky. He knew this feeling. It was a feeling that never let him rest, a sort of nagging itch that started at the base of his toes and worked its way to the crown of his head. It was the feeling he got the nights before he transformed. He shivered at that thought, the terror of you own conscious slipping away while your bones grew misshaped and elongated until you were no longer yourself, it was enough to make him forget his own name.

"Remus Lupin, Remus Lupin," he repeated it many time in the dark. Each time he said it he felt like his own identity was becoming a bit more...solid. Like if he thought constantly about the change, soon it would be all he could think about. And sometimes it wasn't even the change that bothered him, it was the crushing weight of keeping this secret. Its was like it was suffocating him where ever he was and whatever he did. There were times when all he wanted to do was jump up on the breakfast table and shout it to the morning sky ceiling. There were other times where he toyed with the idea of just telling the other Marauders, but then he remembered Steven.

Steven had been a boy he used to play with when he had been around four years old. His bite was still healing and though Father had told him never to tell anyone about his being a werewolf, he had reasoned that meant not to tell strangers. Surely Steven was allowed to know; he and Steven told each other everything.

So, one morning while they were playing in the sandpit in Steven's backyard he told Steven the one thing he could never take back. Remus watched Stevens eyes go through surprise, fear, and then hate. He had thrown down one of the shovels that they had been playing with and attacked Remus. All the while screaming, "You stupid werewolf! I hate you! My family hates you! You deserve to die!" Remus had been terrified. He had run, scratched and bleeding, all the way home while Steven's final words echoed in his ears, "Never come back!" he had screamed. Remus could still hear it echoing down the hills. Remus had never told anyone else his secret after that, but the damage had been done. Steven had told his parents and they told other parents and soon the whole wizarding community in the area had known. His family was forced to move to a very remote part of Great Britain.

Then the letter had come. The Hogwarts letter that invited him to a place where he could finally make friends again. Some of the staff knew, and he could see the fears in the corners of their eyes, and the contempt hidden in their smiles, but that was alright. He always expected some opposition where ever he was.

There were some in Hogwarts who really didn't care he was a werewolf. Professor McGongall was one, she told him the moment he met her, in his own living room, that talent was talent no matter where it came from. Professor Dumbledore was another, his smiles were simply that, smiles. And then there was Professor Evans, Harry, he had openly declared that he was friend with a werewolf, and that his son was Harry's godson. Remus grinned a little, Harry was one of the most laid back teachers he had ever heard of. And yet somehow they always managed to come out of his classroom with much more knowledge than they had come out with, the amazing part of all this was that they actually retained it.

Remus's grin faded a little as his breathing grew more restricted. Maybe some water will help, he decided. He stood and grabbed the small cup and pitcher from the bedside table. He downed the liquid in a few gulps, it helped some. He looked down at the grounds and saw a figure wearing long black robed walk towards the Forbidden Forest.

His eyes widened at the stupidity. It was the Forbidden Forest, forbidden was in the title for goodness sake! It was some place you did not want to venture in the brightest daylight, let alone the dark. Remus knew most of what lurked in the farthest corners of the Forbidden Forest, he had been their many time, and watched himself kill many creatures. The Forbidden Forest was not somewhere you wanted to go at night.

Remus decided then and there to stop them from going in there. The figure was only starting out, if he ran maybe he could catch them. Sprinting faster than he thought possible, Remus made his way to the doors. They were reluctant to let any student out at night, but recognising the urgency of the situation, they let him go. Remus was just able to make out the figure light a large lantern, and drift with an almost dream like quality, into the forest.

Remus ran faster.

His vision sharpened, as part of the wolf in him kicked in. He could clearly see the figure's trail, and could almost taste his scent in the air. In his mind, he classified it as grass blowing, the smell of the air before a storm. It was the smell of the wind. He ran faster and faster then all of a sudden he was on the edge of a very small clearing. The figure was in the center. He pushed back the hood of his long robes and revealed his face, eyes closed, face turned upwards toward the moon, breathing deeply.

It was Professor Evans, Harry! What was he doing here?!

Then all of a sudden the air was filled with the sweetest music Remus had ever heard. It was the sound of wind chimes, birds, and sun lit fields. Then there was a bird. It was crimson and gold colored, long tail feathers, and sharp claws. Remus recognized it from an stain glass window near one of the many stair cases: it was a Phoenix. Harry came to meet a Phoenix.

The bird gently landed on Harry's shoulder and began to rustle it feathers. Remus recognized the gesture, birds did that when they had been through a long flight and still felt the wind in their wings. Then the bird dropped something into Harry's hand, Harry smiled briefly at the bird and whispered a few words. The bird flew from Harry's should only to perch itself on a nearby branch. Harry waved his wand a few times and chanted a spell in an incomprehensible language. His hair turned darker and seemed to grow back into his skull, his nose grew slightly longer, his eyes turned green while Harry pulled a pair of glasses from a hidden pocket, and he grew slightly skinnier. Harry brushed his hair away from his eyes and Remus could see a scar appear on his forehead. It was shaped like lightning.

He looked like James.

This was why no one knew Professor Evans, there wasn't a Professor Evans. With this startling revalation several things seemed to happen at once.

Remus stepped back quickly and broke a twig.

The Phoenix gave sharp cry.

Harry turned and saw Remus.

Remus ran back the way he came.

**Okay it's longer this time. To Lionesseyes13 I just can't figure out how to send it to you! **


	10. Telling

**A/N: A big thanks to all of you who reviewed, I love you all so much, and if you have any ideas on what you would like Harry to do, I am open to suggestions. Disclaimer: I, in no way, shape, or form, own Harry Potter. Though why any of you wouldn't know that is completely beyond me. So yeah...whatever. There are those of you who liked Remus finding out, and there are those of you who wanted Sirius or James to find out. To those who people I have this to say: tough luck.**

Remus was running.

He was running fast.

After Remus had been bitten he had discovered that he was slightly changed. The wolf that was now in his system had irrevocably changed him. He was stronger, faster, and had sharper reflexes than he had ever had before. But as a trade off his magic was weakened. It was why he studied so much, if he was going to have weak magic he was going to be clever about how he used it. But Remus wasn't thinking about that now, he wasn't thinking about his fragile human state. He was thinking about getting away as fast as possible.

Remus ran and ran. He ran so fast the trees that had been defined shapes before were now dark green blobs. And he no longer felt the dirt and moss beneath his feet, it was like his feet didn't touch the ground at all.

He ran till he saw the sun climb its way slowly through the clouds and over the pine trees, birds, squirrels, and bowtruckles emerge from their various trees. He saw the clouds turn a soft pink color with streaks of bright orange.

Remus ran till his legs felt shaky and his hands felt numb from being clenched so tightly. He felt his feet fall from under him, his knees hit the ground and his palms began to bleed from the scrapes.

Remus was breathing heavily. He only had one thought running through his mind. What. On. Earth. Was. That.

Professor Evans, Harry, was...what was he?

He had changed his appearance. He looked like an older version of James. Like, not twins, there had been small differences. Harry, if that was even his name, was taller, thinner, he had an odd scar, and green eyes. The green eyes were what puzzled Remus most, they were familiar. He didn't know why they were, or where ha had seen them, but they were familiar.

For the three months Harry had been a Professor his eyes had been a dark blue, not bright green. The Professor had been tan not the pale almost luminescent white he had been in that clearing. The scar was interesting, but not really as disturbing as the others.

Remus's breath was beginning to come back to him, as well as the rest of his thought process. He had all day to think about it, today was the full moon and his absence would be excused from school. Some of the Professors would wonder about where he was, but he had been known to leave the day of or the day before the full moon. It was time to find out where he was. He looked around, he recognised this place. It was about 6 miles from the school.

If he walked he could make it back in about four hours. If he ran he could be back in two, but he didn't feel up to that yet.

But back to the problem at hand, who was Professor Evans?

"Who is he?" Remus said aloud.

"Well, that's a bit of a story." Remus heard a voice behind him. He whirled around and saw Professor Evans behind him, he was dripping in sweat, and panting heavily. Remus turned to run again.

"Wait," he said, "It was hard enough to catch up with you the first time Moony, don't do it again." Remus crouched down with his knuckles to the ground, if he needed to run again, he would be ready. The Phoenix was perched on a near by tree. Remus knew now how Harry found him.

"You don't need to run Remus, I'm not going to do anything." Harry nearly fell to the ground and started breathing deeply. Remus began to say something, but Harry put up one finger and kept breathing deeply. When his breathing resumed to a semi-normal state Harry sat up.

"Ask your questions, I'll answer." Remus stared speculatively at him. "I won't guarantee you'll like or even believe the answers, but they're true and I won't lie to you. You have done to much for me, or rather you will do alot for me. You'll almost become like an uncle."

Remus just stared, 'he's crazy' he thought.

"I'm not bonkers," Harry said. Harry had that glint in his eye that irked the Mauraders so.

"What's your name?" Remus asked.

"Harry."

"Full name."

"Harry James Potter."

"What?!"

"This is a bit of a story."

"Short version."

"Time traveller."

"Longer version."

"Knocked over a jar of time turner dust when I was interviewing for a job."

"Why was there a jar of time turner dust?"

"Never got the chance to ask."

"Who are you exactly?"

"James's son."

"Really?"

"Really, really."

"What kind of fake name was that?"

"Harry Owen Evans?"

"That's the one."

"I like my first name, I alway like them middle name, and that last name was my mother's maiden name."

Remus's eyes grew wide. He knew why he recognized the eyes.

"Lily?!"

"Lily." Harry stated, his face glowing with pride.

"Lily and James?"

"There's a reason I made the marriage commet your first class."

Remus was beyond amazement or disbelief. For some reason, he trusted Harry.

"Are you going to tell?" Harry asked.

"Can I?" Remus asked in disbelief.

"I don't see why not. Just don't tell Lily. I don't know what kind of reprecussions it's going to have by telling you, but I read somewhere that I already felt the reprecussions so in the grand scheme of things I'm not really messing with anything that hasn't been messed with already."

Remus's head began to spin.

"Don't think about it too much, your head'll explode."

Remus and Harry looked at each other for a while.

"Wanna go back to the castle?" Harry asked, "I have treacle tart delivered by the house elves in about an hour."

"Sure."


	11. Walking Back

_**A/N: Much love to all my wonderful reviewers. I have a few favorites,** Pearlberry: Gasp-eth was hilarious. The Feral Candy Cane: Thanks for reviewing so many times, practically from the beginning. Zed PM: you'll see their reactions soon, don't worry. Crazilyinsanelady: thank you for telling me about Pluto. Goldeneyedgirl: You're a sweetheart. HPSWST101: thanks for your input. Nairiefairie: You send such cute reviews, lol. **There are others whom I have forgotten, I apologize. If you've reviewed more than three times or if your reviews were particularly cute send me a review again and I'll put you on here. **_

**_Disclaimer: I'd have to be an idiot to claim that anything Harry Potter was mine._**

The long walk back to the castle was uncomfortable if you were being kind, and incredibly awkward if you weren't. In Harry's defens,e he tried to make conversation, but when you announced that you were a time traveler and did not even explain why it put a damper on the atmosphere.

"So," Harry said, "I never got ask how you like Hogwarts?"

Lupin mostly stared but eventually words started to form. "I love it here," he replied.

"Why?" Harry asked.

"It's the one place I feel free," explained Remus.

"I would think that you hate it here. At least at home, they know who you are."

That statement hit Remus like a cement going down a steep slope going three hundred miles an hour. Harry was right, for that feeling of freedom had all but faded by this year. The feeling of keeping a secret from everyone haunted his every step.

"That person―your favorite teacher? How did he deal with his werewolf problem?" stammered Remus.

In response, Harry stared at him for a moment and then burst out laughing. Remus was hurt his amusement. After all, he had posed a simple question with a desperately wanted answer.

"Remus," snickered Harry, "I'm a time traveler, correct?"

Remus nodded in confirmation.

"I'm also James' son, so by the process of elimination, who is the werewolf that I know?"

Remus stared blankly at Harry for a moment. Then something clicked in his mind. Harry was going to be James' son, and Remus was James' friend. Wait, that was impossible…

"Yes!" crowed Harry, "It hits him! Remus Lupin say hello to your future student, and I should hope, your favorite."

"I- I'm going to become your favorite teacher?" demanded a breathless Remus. "You're going to be my son's godfather?"

"You're going to have a wonderful son," Harry educated him. "He will be the most even- tempered toddler there has ever been."

"Well, that's good to know I guess," mumbled a still discomfited Remus. After that, they lapsed into an almost comfortable silence. Despite everything, Remus still felt at ease around Harry. After all, the man had a very inviting air about him. It wasn't particularly charismatic, but it was soothing. In fact, it was comparable to meeting a cousin you have only written to.

As Remus thus mused, Harry jumped over a log and nimbly stepped on some low lying boulders. He had perfect balance. Harry noticed Remus' staring.

"I inherited James's balance, but I've been told by Sirius I have Lily's grace." Harry snickered some more before announcing,"We're almost at the castle."

Glancing up, Remus could barely see the tip of the astronomy tower through a patch of trees. He let Harry lead him through the rest of the tree and around the grounds. Oddly enough, they went past the main doors altogether. Harry led Remus to a blank wall.

Needless to say, Remus was confused. Well, more so than is necessary in a situation when the future son of your best friend is leading to places unknown.

Harry tapped the wall in a few places. Then, when it didn't move, he kicked it. A trap door popped open. Harry grabbed Remus by the scruff of the neck and pulled him through before the door could squash him flat.

"That door always has a grudge against me, now and in the future." Harry actually looked upset by this.

"Why?" Remus frowned.

"Well, in the future I may have accidently splatter frog guts all over it, and Hogwarts doesn't like to be disfigured. Yet, I can't figure out why it would hate me now," stated Harry.

The corridor they were going down led them straight to Harry's office. Harry found a tea pot and kettle underneath some cushions in corner, but while he was looking for tea cups he seemed to realize Remus was still there.

"Moony, will you go fetch the rest of the Marauders?" he asked, fixing emerald eyes on the boy. "I think they need to know. Well, everyone besides Wormtail." He seemed to add this as an afterthought, but his countenance turned dark. Remus had rarely seen anyone so haunted, and he was a werewolf. However, he decided not to dwell on it right then. Instead, he stored it away in the corner of his mind and raced off quietly for James and Sirius.


	12. Telling Some More People

******A/N: Well, I have other people to thank no**w. _Nairiefairie: I'm sorry you moved, and trapdoors can be a pain. Hermypermy: I love the Sandlot too (You play ball like a girl, lol!) Much love to my brand new beta: you are my favorite grammar nut. Zedpm: Yes you got a mention, and, hey, here's another one. Goldeneyedgirl247: You are too sweet! _

**Disclaimer: If someone doesn't know that I don't own Harry Potter, visit the doctor. You may be suffering for extreme stupidity. Together we can find a cure.**

Remus raced along the corridors. The castle had a sleepy feel to it this early in the morning. Some of the deeper hallways hadn't seen the bright pink and orange sunlight that was beginning to peep through the windows, but Remus didn't mind. After all, he needed darkness for a bit longer. His quiet footsteps and keen senses kept him alert for Filch, or his new kitten, Mr. Tubbs. That stupid cat seemed to know he wasn't fully human and followed him around like stray dog in an unwelcome territory.

Remus stopped and listened for something― anything. There was nothing to hear except the occasional crackling of the torches and his own almost silent breathing.

Moony continued his journey through the hallways with almost inhuman speed. He had always known his way around the castle better than his friends and had seemed to know instinctively whether doors or walls were real or not. This had been an invaluable talent when James had suggested their new project: a map to tell where everything was in Hogwarts. Sirius had been the one to think of tracking spells, but they hadn't found the right kind of spell yet. 'Hmm,' Remus thought, 'maybe Harry will know whether we succeed or not.'

In what seemed like in no time at all, Remus was in front of the door to the third year dorms. He opened the door slowly and winced at the sudden, loud creak the door made.

James and Sirius were breathing slowly and deeply in their own respective beds. Remus nearly burst out laughing when he saw Sirius' position. He had one leg bent behind him while the other was stuck at an odd angle; one arm was thrown over his face, and his mouth was fluttering. Occasionally, he twitched and grunted, but, for the most part, he was just fun to watch. James, on the other hand, was very quiet. He laid on his side with one arm under his head like a makeshift pillow. Remus had never seen James so still or quiet. In fact, he reckoned this would be the only time James was quiet and still.

Remus decided to start by awakening James, so they could both laugh at Sirius. He reached over and gently shook the other lad by the shoulder.

"Whazz it?" James mumbled. Remus shook him again and whispered, "James, wake up. The professor needs us."

James cracked one bleary eye open."Which one?" he mumbled.

"Harry."

At Remus's response, James was instantly more alert, firing questions so swiftly that it appeared to Remus that his buddy didn't even need to pause long enough to draw a breath, "Why does he need us? Why this early? Why us?"

"He needs you, me, and Sirius. He didn't say why," Remus informed him. Rapidly, James got out of bed and grabbed his bathrobe. He took a slipper from off the floor and threw it at Sirius. It was a good hit, for the slipper hit Sirius square in the face and caused him to bolt upright with a small bit of fuzz stuck to his face.

"Sirius," James whispered furiously, not wanting to wake the other boys in the dorm, "Harry wants to see us." Sirius looked even more out of it than James had been.

"Why," Sirius croaked, looking even more out of it than James had been.

"I don't know," said Remus. "He just does."

Sirius reached for his own bathrobe and managed to fall of the bed doing so. He landed with a solid thump. It took a moment until he was off the floor, but when he got back up he was somehow wide awake and perfectly presentable. His hair was combed back, and the drool had been wiped off his face. James and Remus looked at each other bemused, because sometimes Sirius was not natural.

They all made the slightly more dangerous trip back to Harry office. It was more perilous since James and Sirius could never be as quiet or stealthy as Remus. However, they still made good time. Soon, they were in front of the old wooden door.

From inside, they could here a kind of music playing behind it. It was like nothing they had ever heard before: a sort of mix of classical music and jazz. It was motivational and soothing. Remus knocked quickly but loudly, wanting to ensure that Harry heard them, but also wanting to make sure they weren't caught. The door opened instantaneously, and Remus shuffled in just as swiftly, while James and Sirius took time to gawk at everything.

Harry's office was interesting. Small machines puffed and whirled in various corners, while pictures of places they had never heard of were hung and propped up in various places. James immediately took interest in a small glass dome in which two teams miniature Quidditch players competed ruthlessly. Sirius took a more avid interest in small models of Muggle transportation. He took a particular shine to a cherry red motorcycle. Indeed, he even stroked one long finger along the chrome.

Remus dismissed all of these, though he did pause to gape a little, because Harry's office was a lot more interesting in the daylight. He ran over to the large arm chair beside the fire, where Harry had his feet propped up on one arm and his head resting against the other. He was cooking a large batch of eggs and sausage in a frying pan on the stove.

Four mugs of tea sat steaming on a tray on one of the various poufs. Remus took a wary glance at Harry who simply beamed back. All trace of the hard, dark expression he had worn earlier was gone.

As such, Remus shifted his glance from Harry to James. That's when it dawned on him. How were the supposed to convince James and Sirius this was really Harry? The Harry they had known for nearly half a year had been tall, blond, and brown eyed, and the Harry that sat before Remus now was shorter with dark hair and brilliant emerald eyes. Remus wouldn't have believed it unless he had seen it for himself. Harry seemed to gauge this from his expression and patted him reassuringly on the arm.

"Hello," James and Sirius had finally noticed there was another person in the room.

"Hi," Harry said. He still had his back turned to them and was stroking the fire. For the first time, Remus noticed that even Harry's voice had changed. Where as the blond Harry's voice had been loud and larger than life, this Harry's voice was soft and full of― there was no better way to say it― moonlight. His voice was pure silver. Remus had never heard anything like it, and, apparently, neither had Sirius or James. Sirius even closed his eyes for a minute.

"Who are you?" James asked hesitantly. He could tell this was not the same Professor they had been instructed by throughout the year. This was someone else. In turn, that boded the question of who exactly this stranger was.

"Harry," mumbled Remus. "Are you going to tell them your full name?" Remus' mouth was grave, but his eyes were laughing.

"Oh ,of course, Moony, how could I be so rude?" Harry still didn't turned around. "My name is Harry James Potter."

James had to pick his jaw up off the floor, meanwhile Sirius chuckled and guffawed.

"What's so funny?" asked Harry.

"You can't be Harry James Potter," Sirius chuckled.

"Why not?" Harry asked bemused. Seeing the unholy glee radiating from his face, Remus sense this was not going to be pretty.

"Because then you'd be related James, and what kind of weirdo relative are you to just show up out of the blue?" reasoned Sirius, still chortling.

"Not a relative," Remus intervened, and, bemused, James and Siius whirled about to face him, instead.

"Well, then, who are you?" James pressed.

Finally, Harry spun around. James and Sirius backed up in shock, because it was like looking into a mirror to the future― specifically, James' future.

"I'm James' son," Harry asserted. "Now, who wants breakfast?"


	13. Interrupted

**A/N: Hello, It's been a while since I updated, but here it is. **

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling is the author, not me...duh.**

There are all sorts of shock. There is the kind of shock when you confess to your true love, and they just leave it hanging in the air, so there you are thinking 'I can't believe I just said that, and how dare they not respond.' Then, there's the kind of shock where the doctor announces, "You've been pregnant for the last nine months and you're ready to give birth. Now," so, of course, you sit there for a moment in utter disbelief, but then you freak out which is the understatement of the year of what is really going on in your head. Then there is the nice kind of shock where your friends throw you a surprise party two months after you birthday. Then there's the kind of shock you get when you figure out that your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher has been in a magical disguise for the entire time you've known him and not only that but he is your future son. Needless to say, James' brain ceased to function at all, for any reason. The world could have ended, or Lily Evans could have kissed him full on the mouth, and he wouldn't have had a clue what had transpired.

On the other hand, Sirius took it for an elaborate practical joke of some kind and believed the Harry he had originally seen was the true Harry and the black haired Harry in front of him was the blond Harry in disguise. As for the future son thing, not a chance.

"You know," remarked Harry after a little while of Sirius rolling on the floor in laughter, "I'm not kidding. Look, James...err...Dad believes me."

Sirius did indeed look at James, who still stood in awe. In normal circumstances, he would have been rolling on the floor with Sirius, but somewhere in the back of his befuddled brain this seemed to be the truth. Harry had Lily's laugh, and Lily's eyes, not to mention it would explain why no one knew anything about him...at all. There was also the issue that he seemed to have that all knowing grin. That suddenly made a lot of sense. Harry did know what they were going to do and what they had done. Maybe Dumbledore was from the future too. That would explain a lot.

" H-How?" That was all James' brain could manage at this point. After all it is a common symptom that humans undergo any amount of stress grammar and proper English go right out the window. Darn it all, James' was stuttering again. Harry had a way of doing that to him, as if James was a small boy being scolded for accidentally changing the cat from a dapper grey to neon green, again. (The first time was an accident, the second and twelth times, and all the times inbetween had been for fun.)

"Well, it's something of a story," said Harry, and so for what seemed like a very short time, but in reality was something like two hours, Harry proceeded to tell them all the story of his interview. The questions had been asked about how his cloak had caught the side of that stupid jar, and how McGongall was going to be the next Headmistress. Remus and James nodded furiously through it, while Sirius grinned stupidly. Surely somewhere in the back of his brain this somehow all made sense, but for the most part he refused to believe it.

"So," Sirius snorted after a few moments of silence after Harry had finished his narrative, "Who's going to be the biggest prank store distributer in the future?"

"Actually," Harry responded, "it's going to be a pair of Weasley twins. They run Zonko's into the ground."

"Right." Sirius made a sound somewhere between a chuckle and a snort.

Harry beckoned Sirius over with a twitch of one of his long fingers. Sirius came over and bent down so Harry could whisper to him. After almost a minute of Harry whispering to Sirius, in that time Sirius had turned so pale that he was now the color of frozen milk, Sirius slowly backed away from him.

"How did you know that?" he demanded, "I never told a soul, not even James."

"You are more forthcoming with your godson." Harry grinned back, for he knew Sirius believed him now. Who couldn't after hearing something like that? After all, it was one of Sirius' best kept secret, which only he and Harry knew.

"Who is my godson, anyway?" Sirius inquired in a daze.

"You are as thick now as you are in the future, Padfoot," Harry sighed. "I should think it was obvious."

"Oh," James said. It was a little obvious. Harry was going to be James' son and Sirius was James' best mate. It was like adding two plus two, but with Sirius two plus two sometimes equaled fish. Sometimes, he was that thick.

"So what happens in the future, anyway?" Remus pressed after a long pause. Breakfast had been getting cold, and Harry insisted they eat it before it got to glacial temperatures.

"I can't tell you," Harry said through a mouth of eggs and tomato. "It could mess with the delicate balance of time."

"But you told me I have a son and you're the godfather, and that I'm your future DADA teacher. Why not anything else?" Remus argued.

"I tell you small things that won't have any great impact on the future. You having a son or being a teacher isn't going to drive you insane, unlike telling every detail or mistake in your life, which would cause you to try and change it and have huge repercussions that no one can foresee."

"That makes sense," Sirus had come out of his stupor and was shoveling sausages into his mouth at an extraordinary rate, but still managed this small sentence.

"It does, doesn't it?" James seconded.

"What can you tell us?" Remus asked after a moment. Harry considered this, but in the middle of what were clearly deep thoughts, the door burst open.

"Professor," a bright and cheery voice rang out. "I need your help, oh."

It was Lily Evans come for their every-other-week talk and study session.


	14. Lies are easy if you've been on the run

**A/N: Hi for those who didn't notice a certain reviewer *Cough_shibala_Cough* caught a small time related error in this story: their Marauder names haven't come into play yet. I spent a good deal of time trying to figure out how to explain that one. I couldn't find a good one; so were all just going to ignore my little slip-up. Okay? Moving on: Jk Rowling wrote these characters I'm just borrowing them for my own amusement. Also, to my lovely beta, I had no time to send it to you. It was either post it now, or wait two weeks in which two terrible things might happens:they lose interest or come after me like a mob of angry villagers. I don't like either option.**

Have you ever seen any kind of woodland animal caught in a patch of bright light? They freeze. Stone cold, never-going-to-move-ever freeze. I could compare this to a great shock I suppose, a shock perhaps like: telling your young father and all his friends that your his son from the future and not to tell your mother, but she just so happens to walk in. Well I suppose it's not just shocking, but rather ironic.

Harry was experiencing such a shock.

There was his wonderful, as he was beginning to find out more and more, young mother. She was standing in the doorway with a bemused rather curious look on her face.

'Who is this person?' Lily wondered. 'Why is that blasted Potter and all his friends here? Hey, why does this person look so much like Potter?' She decided these questions would soon be solved if she only said a few words.

"Excuse me," Lily said, "I'm looking for Professor Evans? He was supposed to help me with my homework." Harry kept his face calm but inside, he was a relieved wreck.

'Thank goodness,' Harry thought, 'She doesn't recognize anything about me. What's a good excuse? Think fast Harry.'

"My name is Harry Potter," Harry said. James, Remus, and Sirius all seemed shocked that Harry was using his full name. Fortunately this look was lost on Lily.

"I came for a visit with my young cousin," Harry gestured at James, who looked rather impressed with such a good lie. "We haven't seen each other in a long time and I'm only in the country for a few days." Lily nodded politely but still looked confused.

"Not to be rude," she started, "but- but why..."

"Why are we in Professor Evans' office?" Lily nodded a bit furiously, thoroughly relieved that this Harry person was willing to over look rude questions. "Well to be truthful, Professor Evans' had to leave early this morning and won't be back for a few days. He asked me to fill in for him and I decided as long as I'm at Hogwarts might as well visit James. He might have died of shock die if I all of a sudden showed up at the classroom and started teaching." Harry chuckled a bit darkly. 'Though that,' he mused, 'might have been a fun way to break it to everybody if I wanted to.'

Lily, however, thought it highly amusing, and almost chocked trying to stop her laughter. Harry smiled indulgently.

"Professor Evans should be back by the end of the week," Harry lied, cleanly I might add, through his teeth, "but it may take longer."

"How do you know the Professor?" Lily asked politely. Surely this person would have some of the answers the whole school had been buzzing about.

"I've known him all of both our lives, and by that I mean our parents were close friends and we share a birthday. So we really have known each other all our lives." Lily was liking this substitute more and more. He felt, maybe safe wasn't quite the word, but it was very near to what she felt. Almost like a bond.

"Well," Lily said suddenly, "I'm sorry for ruining your visit. I'll just go now."

"No need James and I were just finishing up. It was a wonderful story on how he always managed to get more oatmeal in his hair than in his mouth." Lily and Harry laughed in perfect synchronization and James heard the similarities between their laugh more than ever before. It had been in the back of James' mind before but now the fact hit him like a battering ram on steroids: he, James Potter was going to marry Lily Evans one day. Lily Evans was going to fall for him.

Harry heard something in the back of the room, it got louder with each syllable, his young father had finally figured out who he was going to marry. He had been wondering when James would find out his courtship of the lovely redhead that was his mother, was not as stupid and far out of reach as everyone else seemed to think.

"Oh...my...gosh, oh my gosh, OH MY GOSH!" James was practically screeching by the end, and was breathing very fast.

"James," Harry was in a panic now, he hadn't expected it to effect him this much. "take some deep breaths before you..." James fell to a dead heap on the floor, "that."

"What's his problem," Sirius asked as he tried, in vain, to prop his friend up to a suitable position.

"Oh something I said earlier finally hit him," Harry looked at his unconscious father with a mixture of exasperation and amusement.

"Always knew he was thick," Lily muttered from the background.

**a/n: Okay people, I know its a little short, but I have one thing to say: FINALS SUCK! It's a scientific fact, look it up. I'm also on vacation from Wednesday till next Thursday and won't have computer access on a boat. So, on that happy note I should have a brand new chapter in say...two weeks. I'm also going to start a poll on what the "substitute" *wink,wink* should do for lessons. So send in your requests and we'll vote on them.**


	15. SubstituteWait a Minute!

**A/N: Hello, I'm back. **

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling is the author, not me, blah, blah, blah.**

The class didn't know what to expect when they went to class that morning. The sky had been a dark, angry color, lightning had flashed, and enchanted raindrops had evaporated before they had reached the students' heads. All in all, it was not the best of mornings.

It had been made worse when many of the pupils realized their favorite teacher was nowhere to be found. Dumbledore had announced that one of Professor Evan's relatives was ill, and he had made the journey to visit them. He was not expected to return for, at the most, two weeks. As such, a substitute had been arranged. Almost the entire student body groaned at that statement. The only ones who did not had been at the green and silver clad table, whose members all continued to eat steaming porridge with small smirks on their faces.

The day droned slowly, tediously onward. The rain continued to pelt the windows, almost as if the drops were miffed at the glass and wanted to shatter it into a million fragments. The teachers had tried their best to teach the classes with an upbeat attitude, but they couldn't hide that they too were enmeshed in the gloom as well, and it was all the weather's fault.

Finally, it was time for Defense Against the Dark Arts, and the teenagers dragged their feet to the open door. Inside, there was nothing much different. Sure, there was the sub, as they had anticipated. The sub's head was resting face down on the desk. Still, despite the presence of the sub, the atmosphere wasn't overwhelmingly different, and the class took their seats and sat quietly until the substitute noticed their presence.

A minute passed.

Five minutes passed.

Ten minutes passed.

Yet, the substitute still kept his head on the desk. Amelia Bones stood and walked tentatively up to the desk. She peered at the figure and observed that he had a book on top of his face. A pair of glasses lay nearby the book. 'So, he wears glasses,' thought Amelia, 'He's probably very bookish.' She slowly lifted the book off his face and gasped.

It was James Potter! No, wait a minute...it wasn't.

It was something like a look a like, only...this version was better, and older. The 'not-James' (who was still sleeping by the way) was, for lack of a better word, handsome. His face was made of elegant lines, and his hair was darker and softer- looking than James' hair. It was like the new and improved future James.

The 'not-James' gave a small start and woke up. His eyelids fluttered for a moment and opened slowly. Those who had just gotten over the shock of a look-a-like James were quickly given another shock. The 'not-James' had the greenest eyes anyone had ever seen, causing quite a few girls to be smitten on the spot.

The 'not-James' eyes were out of focus and he immediately reached around for the glasses. Once he uncovered them, he put them on and surveyed the class. A slight smile graced his lips, and some of the girls who had not been smitten fell head over heels, as well.

"My name," said the 'not-James' "is Harry Potter. I am a relative of James Potter, and that is why we look alike. I am here to substitute for my life-long friend Professor Evans, and I am smarter than him. Therefore, anything that worked on him will not work on me. For the next two weeks, this is my classroom, not Evans'. You will do as I say, and if you do everything will be okay. If not, I have a few new jinxes I have been dying to try out. Choose wisely."

Now all those who had either been in shock, smitten, or more specifically gob-smacked were now a little scared. This person was tougher, meaner, and downright more cleverer that Professor Evans was.

"Now," continued Professor Potter in a much softer voice. "What have you learned so far?"

A few hands rose hesitantly in the air, and Professor Potter called on Remus.

"We have learned about redcaps, hinkypucks, grindylows, and some of the different tribes of merepeople."

Professor Potter nodded and scooped up a piece of chalk.

"Now, if I know Evans he will have taught you some other silly things as well, such as what happens when magical creatures fight and when encountering a merchild you know how to beat them a snail marbles." The class nodded, for that was exactly what Harry Evans had taught them.

"Well, I," continued Harry Potter, "am going to teach you how to duel and some basic kind of defense." The class murmured excitedly, because that sounded exciting and dangerous. The boys were particularly exhilarated, but none more so than James.

When Harry had woken up from his nap, it had struck James that there were lots of minor differences that made him a lot better-looking than himself. Then, when he had started speaking, it struck him that his son was incredibly smart. In turn, that made him wonder if this was Harry's real personality, or was the bright, fun-loving, blond-haired Professor his true nature?

Well, whatever his real nature, decided James, he was always a good Professor.

**Not particularly long, I know, but it was fun. Well, I'm back from my vacation, and it was fun. If y'all have any ideas on the kind of jinxes you want Harry to teach, tell me.**


	16. Class BeginsAgain

**A/N: Hi! Let's see, I've decided to drag a person back in time to keep Harry company till he'll go back...eventually. The choices are: Luna, George, McGonagall, and Fawkes. Go vote, and then I'll decide. Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, oh great now I have to go crawl in a corner and cry.**

Word spread quickly about Professor Potter. There were rumors that he was secretly James Potter's older brother; others that suggested that he may even be James' father. Of course, these were rapidly debunked by James and all the other Marauders. There were other rumors of who he actually was. Some claimed he was an Auror. Still others declared he had travelled all his life like Professor Evans. There were even some people― mostly Slytherins, as was to be expected by anyone with a semi-functioning brain―certain that he was a Squib, as no one had seen him doing any actual magic.

Though after the fifth year lesson no one had questioned that Professor Potter could perform magic.

James and the rest of the Marauders were looking forward to the lessons. James was interested to see how his son turned out. Sirius was extremely interested in how the future would advance in hexes. He wanted to try them out on a certain slimey guy that was friends with his best friend's crush. Remus was just happy that in the future he was accepted. Peter just wanted to know why James hadn't told anyone his relative was coming.

When every third year entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, they, like the Marauders, all had expectations, but no one suspected what actually happened would transpire.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Sirius watched Harry write his name on the board. He made his "y," he noticed, the same way Lily did, and his "h" the same way James did.

When he was done, the Professor turned around a faced the group. All the third years looked expectantly up at him, for they had all heard the stories from some of the other students. According to some fifth years, he had done a corporeal Patronus for the whole room to see, and, according to a seventh year, he had taught some highly advanced defensive spells, and, when asked where he got them, he replied "I made them up."

"The Dark Arts," he started, "are an extremely dangerous foe. Yet, the problem is how we determine what qualifies as Dark Arts." Harry glanced inquiringly around the room, prodding, "Any ideas?"

One a freckle-faced Hufflepuff raised her hand. "The Unforgiveable Curses."

"Very good," Harry allowed, smiling slightly. "Do you know the history of some of the Unforgiveables?"

They all looked around the room. No one had another answer.

"The Imperius Curse and Advada Kerdava were originally used for animals that were due for slaughter," explained Harry, his expression grim now. "No one wanted to go through the unnecessary messiness of killing animals. The animal was picked from the herd or flock and placed under the Imperius curse so it wouldn't run away. Then, Advada Kerdava was performed so no axes or knives were to be used. In the beginning, it was a simple humane way to get some steak or fried chicken."

"But what about the Cruciatus?" pipped up a Slytherin.

Professor Potter's face swiftly grew even graver as he responded, "The Cruciatus was created expressly for the purpose of torture to the greatest degree. No thumbscrews, racks, or knives can compare to the utter pain that is the Cruciatus, nor even the intent behind it. You have to _mean_ it: You have to _want_ that person to suffer the worst pain you can think of." The class was very silent after that, since it was clear the Professor had been in the action of the war firsthand and had done some things they couldn't imagine.

"Now," he continued in a much cheerier fashion, "we get into gray areas. What qualifies as a Dark spell? You in the back to the left, what do you think?"

Peter Pettigrew looked up startled. "I guess some of the spells that cause other people to hurt."

"Exactly." Sirius watched Harry's face shadow in an unknown emotion. "Now, who would qualify _Wingardium Leviosa _as a Dark spell?"

"But that's so innocent," another Hufflepuff announced.

"Is it?" Professor Potter asked. "If I were, to say, levitate a boulder using _Wingardium Leviosa_ and let it drop over a person, is that considered an innocent spell now? Or I could thrust a knife into another person's head? Is that considered innocent?" The Hufflepuff seemed to grow small underneath the Professor's gaze."Our first lesson is that there is no such thing as a Dark spell. No, there are only Dark wizards."

The rest of the class was spent in an endless debate on the gray areas. It was so engrossing that the discussions continued well onto dinner. In a matter of days, the whole school was wondering what exactly were the Dark Arts?

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"James," Sirius stated one evening not long after their first lesson, "I officially proclaim you have the coolest, most interesting, son in the history of any world, Wizarding or otherwise."

Harry raised his bottle of butterbeer from the desk where he sat grading sixth year essays. "I agree with Sirius," he contributed.

"He gets it from his father," remarked James. Harry laughed. His mother was right― sometimes his father could be a bighead.

"Harry, why can't we invite Peter along to these get-togethers we have?" inquired Remus, as he did his homework in front of the fire.

Harry's lips quirked enigmatically. "You just can't. I don't like him." After establishing as much, he placed his quill to the paper again in a way that said the matter was officially closed.

Sirius quickly changed the subject. "Remus, how did you even find Harry the night you saw him change from Evans back to Potter?"

"What?" Remus asked, slightly panicked now.

"How did you find me?" Harry pressed, slightly amused, from the corner where he had enlisted James to organize the essays he had just graded.

"It wasn't that hard," Remus murmured, not exactly answering the inquiry.

A sudden high whistle emerged from a corner of the room. One of the whirring, clicking instruments Harry had amassed in his office had suddenly gone off. Harry carefully sat the quill down and strode to the offending instrument. He tapped it with his wand, and a thick purple smoke steamed out. Immediately, Harry grabbed one of the small crystal bottles on an adjoining table and directed the smoke into the bottle. Then, he put the bottle on a shelf that was covered in similar crystal bottles filled with colored smoke that ranged from light periwinkle to indigo and finally to the deep purple smoke that Harry had just laid on the shelf. Harry walked back to his desk and picked up the quill. When he looked up again, he saw Sirius, James, and Remus all staring at him.

"What?" He arched an eyebrow at them.

"James, I have another announcement," Sirius proclaimed again. "Your son is very mean for not telling us what's going on."

"I'm just good at keeping secrets," chuckled Harry. "Now, get out. You can come back tomorrow when we pick out Sirius' future motorcycle." He said in this such a way Sirius was stuck wondering whether he really would get a motorcycle in the future or whether Harry was pulling his leg again. He was never quite sure whether he believed Harry half the time, after all he said that Sirius wound up marrying a mermaid and had to live half of the time in the lake with the Giant Squid and that just couldn't happen, right?

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Harry yawned again. He was so inexplicably tired lately, it was ridiculous. This wasn't normal, because he wasn't merely tired. Harry knew tired from cleaning the Dursleys' kitchen from dusk until dawn. Harry knew tired when he and his friends had run through most of a forest to keep Death Eaters off their trail. Harry knew tired from Quidditch practices that lasted until three in the morning. This was not normal exhaustion. This was his life force draining away.

He had known this was had felt it ever since he came her: a sort of fatigue that came from deep with in his bones. He had felt vague snatches of it when he had rescued his godfather and hippogriff in one fell swoop. He had assumed that it was because he was being chased around for the second time that night, but now he knew.

It was a side effect from going back in time. The Wizarding body could withstand many things, but it could not withstand his natural pull towards his own time. The 'call" of their own time was why time-turners only went back so many times. If a person went farther back than a month in time, the "call" for their own time became too great, and their own time would pull back the spirit, and then the body, one bit at a time.

Harry was going to get back to his own time. Unfortunately, he wouldn't be alive when he did. Dumbledore was helping him with a plan, and Harry hoped it would work.

Harry yawned again as he heard the steps of his students. He smiled gently. Some time from now, he would have to refer to them as "sir" or "ma'am,"as they would once again be the parents of some of his friends. For now, though, it was time to work.

**Go vote. Do it now. Go. Now! VOTE!!!! **

**Beta note: Many thanks to my wonderful beta for her incredible grammar skills **


	17. Rock Throwing

**A/N: please. So far Luna's winning, George isn't getting much love, Fawkes is less loved than George, and no one wants a second McGongall. Disclaimer: I own nothing. It's so heart breaking isn't it?!**

"What to do? What to do?" These were the repeating thoughts of Remus Lupin as he ambled along the lake, watching the squid gently propel itself across the water. He stopped by his and the other Marauders' favorite tree-- a large oak. The tree's branches were gnarled and twisted, but the leaves were bright and large like large emeralds hung on twisted leather. Remus loved this tree; probably more than the other Marauder's, it reminded him of where his parents were right now.

He closed his eyes and imagined the last place his family had moved. The small farm house was by no means luxurious or lavish, but it was enough for his mother, father, Remus, and his wonderful grandmother. The house was situated by an expansive field fringed by an even larger forest. The house itself was on the fringes of a small Muggle town with a magical couple who ran the post office. The large countryside left him plenty of places to explore, and when the full moon rose, it left him plenty of places to hide.

When Remus spent time at home that summer he discovered that his father had planted a large garden in their backyard. His father said he could no longer abide by markets, wizard or otherwise, so he had decided, with the wonder that was magic to enhance the small vegetables he had initially grown into an Eden. But Remus knew the real reason: money was being spread thinner and thinner every month. His parents would never say so, but Remus wasn't blind. He saw his mother's large jar for storing every spare sickle and knut. He saw his father's clothes becoming more and more worn out. He saw that when they went to purchase books they were always from a second- hand store. He saw it all; no one needed to tell him anything. He even knew why--it was his lycanthropy.

Such thoughts brought him back to the present. No one besides his family and those who had discovered by accident knew of what happened to him on the night when the moon burned full and bright.

Harry's comments to him about had turned Remus' thoughts to revealing all he had to his friends. Would they accept him as Harry suggested or would they shun him as he knew wizards were prone to do? He had never willingly revealed his secret to anyone. It was the greatest secret his family had, but it was also one of the hardest to keep. During his transformations, his family had to get him so far away no one would hear his howls or worse, run into him while he was his vicious wolf self.

"What to do? What to do?"

***

"What to do? What to do?" These were the thoughts of the time-stranded Harry Potter as he paced his office. Occasionally pausing to look out the window atS irius and James seeing how far each of them could throw a rock without magic. Harry had wondered out loud which one of the Marauders was better in pure physical strength. He had bet on Remus without even sparing a glance at Sirius and James. They had both responded in the way he wanted: outright indignation. He had chuckled at Sirius' righteous fury and his own father's look of just plain wrath.

"You're my son!" he had shouted "You're supposed to be on my side!'"

"I'm just backing the winning horse," he had replied mildly.

"How do you know that?"' James had seethed.

"Why don't the two of you go see how far you can throw a rock? Then go find Remus, ask him to throw the same rock, and watch it sail three times as far with half the energy. He won't even have to look," Harry suggested.

"You wanna bet?"' shouted Sirius.

"What are we betting?" Harry asked slyly. He watched James think for a minute before pulling out a tiny glittering ball that Harry instantly recognized as a Snitch. Sirius withdrew a marble that he had found in his home which swirled with real fairy dust. Harry, on the other hand, brought out two of the few things he had brought with him to this time. He had always carried them with him. One was James and Lily on their wedding day; the other was Sirius holding up the "sold" sign in front of his bike. The boys had looked at them with a kind of awe.

The bet had been made a few minutes later, and Harry smiled his knowing grin that Sirius stated then and there they hated. Harry had chuckled, and practically thrown them out of his office. He was looking forward seeing their faces being put out that he was right, again. Not to mention a few things richer.

Well, that had been a way to get them out of his office, but he had been saving that one for a while. It was fun.

Back to matters at hand, he had been studying the pure mechanics of a time turner, and had found out a few interesting things.

One: they were a recent invention. This was probably why the Department of Mysteries was still experimenting with them.

Two: it took six year to collect enough Dust of Time to create one, which was probably why after they destroyed the Ministry of Magic's supply no one got one for a very long time.

Three (and this was the worst one): no one had figured out how to go forward in time. Apparently, it was a one way trip. Once you were back in time, you were back in time until you reached your desired destination point.

Conclusion: he was stuck in this time with no way back but slowly being dragged to his own time bit by bit, even if it meant his death.

Ergo, plan B was a Summoning spell summoning his own time to him.

Albus thought it was a good idea, and when Albus judged you had a good idea, it generally meant you were secretly a genius.

***

"REMUS!" was the shout of the moment. It also jolted Remus out of more pensive thoughts and back to the present where his friends were running toward him. James had a reasonable sized rock in his hand. Remus was treated with a reasonable amount of fear. Had they found him out and were prepared to beat him for it?

He was just contemplating running as fast as he could when James and Sirius suddenly skidded to a halt and bent over trying to catch their breath. James was even holding the rock out to him, so they weren't going to bash his brains in with a rock after all.

"Throw," pant, "the," huff, "rock," ordered a clearly out of breath Sirius.

"What?" replied an incredulous Remus.

"Throw it," repeated James.

"Why?" frowned Remus.

"Just do it!" inisted James impatiently, and Remus took the rock tentatively, raising it above his head.

"Wait, this isn't going to turn me into a squirrel if I throw it right?" he asked shrwedly as a sudden suspicion washed over him.

"Throw!" James and Sirius screamed simultaneously. Remus tossed as hard as he could and they all watched it practically sail across the lawn until it almost hit the front doors of the school. Both James and Sirius looked at Remus with awe and a bit of disappointment.

"What?" asked Remus apprehensively.

"We just lost a bet with Harry," explained Sirius.

"Of who could throw a rock the farthest?" Remus forehead knit as he strove to figure out what was transpiring.

"Yep," confirmed the other teenager.

"I bet he just wanted you out of his office so he could think." Remus let them ponder this for a moment.

"My son is a genius," breathed James.

"Of course he is," declared Sirius. "He's the son of a Marauder. Now come on. We have to fork over our losings."

Remus followed with a wistful look on his face, looking forward to the day Harry was born. Harry was sure to change the world.

**A/N: So how do you like it?! Go vote kay. Send me a review and tell me who you want to be in the next chapter.**


	18. I Didn't Mean To!

**A/N: *Crawls out of hole in the ground* I live! I am NOT dead. I'm sure all of you are delighted to know that. Now on with the story! Oh, by the way: do i really need a disclaimer? If I really owned Harry Potter would I have this much trouble paying for college? Uh No!**

The Room of Requirement is a strange place, wonderful, but strange all the same. It's a room where anything the castle could possibly provide you with appears. Whether it be fine china or wooden dummies to blow apart for the sake of target practice. It will also alter it décor to fit the seekers needs. It could be at any one time: a dark cold dungeon, poorly ventilated with a fine layer of fungus, or it could just a quickly be a comfortable room with hard wood floors the color of ripened cherries with a roaring fireplace and squishy armchairs. It was Harry Potter's favorite room in the entire Hogwarts castle.

Currently the room was spacious, with hard wood floors the color of light honey, bright lanterns of various make and size hung from the ceiling. The room was bare of furniture except for a small table in the corner covered in various vials, jars, and pouches all labeled with a cornucopia of things such as: powdered hens teeth, phoenix claws, ghost sweat, dragon spikes, and white eagle feathers. A book lay open next to these various jars and vials; its cover was worn and the edges of the pages were ragged and slightly torn in some areas, the book had no title. Indeed it had never had a title. The book was opened to a specific page and marked with a blue jay feather for a book mark; it read:

_Muggles are fond of the saying "the sands of time" no one is quite sure how this particular saying came to be, but it is certain that it did not come from wizards. Although not many witches or wizards are aware of the fact that there is neither dust nor sand of time. What is true though, is that there is mists of time. Often in muggle children tales a foolish is walking alone and somehow unwittingly walks through a mist only to find themselves among the fae (although the term is the same for both wizards and muggles the spelling often differs) only to escape later or be let go at some point and discover that many years have passed. The amount of time that passes differs for each human and is also dependent on the amount of time spent with the fae; the time can be anywhere from 10-150 years, a record of any longer has not been recorded. The mist is what transports them, not the magic, but not at any time only when the cycle of the mist has gone through its cycle and reached a pear color can it be used to shape a time turner piece of dust and travel forward and backward through time. Ancient wizards, mages, and especially sorcerers understood this concept very well and developed systomes and ceremonies for this very purpose. The adviser and great magician Merlin use this ceremony to travel forward in time then used it to travel one day back from when he travelled, it was in this way he advised the muggle King Arthur. The various ceremonies and systems are unique to each magician, wizard, sorcerer, etc. and were kept by them as closely guarder secrets._

Two men worked in the Room of Requirement one held a thick roll of ancient yellowing parchment written in a spindly hand, and the other a white eagle feather dipped in a chimera's blood.

"are you sure you read that correctly Albus?"

"Quite sure Harry," the other replied.

"And you'll take care of it after I"m gone?"

"Yes, Messer's Moony, Padfoot, and Prongs shall not remember a thing"

"Wormtail as well, just as a precaution. I trust Remus to keep things close to the vest, but I'm not so sure about Sirius and James. I love them both dearly but they are just so..."

"Quite,"

"In fact, lets just make sure that no one remembers Professor Potter, just Professor Evans."

"And what do you propose I say to the students about what transpired to result in the disappearance of Professor Evans for almost a month and a half?"

"His mother dies and he has to take care of his younger sister until she comes of age. His father died when he was fifteen, just after the little sister was born. He's making arrangements for her until she can come to live at Hogwarts with him if ever."

"The sister is about...?"

"Six almost seven, her birthday is in December two weeks before Christmas. Six almost seven makes her young enough to know what's going on, but definitely not old enough to take care of herself, also young enough for Professor Evans not to be back until after Christmas, and by then I'm sure you'll have a good substitute."

"I must say Mr. Potter either you have thought about this a great deal or you are brilliant at making up lies that sound like truth."

"It comes with the territory."

"And what territory might that be?"

"Making up cover stories as to why I am in places I shouldn't be, and pretending to be another person while being under cover."

"As you say."

"Now your quite sure this is the right symbol?"

"Very, its exactly how it is in the diagram."

"Good."

The ritual writings that covered the floor were a thing of beauty. The curling symbol in the middle was surrounded with many rings of runes, ancient Celtic writings, and for some reason Harry could not fathom, Japanese kanji was inserted every third symbol. While Albus had explained that while he didn't know the exact reason as to whythey were there, it did not interfere with the flow and intent of the magic. It wasn't enough to make Harry worry, but it was enough to make him slightly anxious.

"Ready Albus?"

"Ready," Albus replied. Harry began to slowly chant a cacophony of words, Albus heard a few lines that sounded like the snatches of a poem. He did not linger long on the chant but began to twirl his wand in a complex pattern as wisps of color seemed to spring from the floor boards in colorful swirls. It was around that point something went wrong.

The patterns started to become disjointed, and parts of the writings on the floor eroded away with no reason as to why. The magic was failing.

Desperately Harry chanted faster thinking if he could finish before the magic eroded completely it would at least take him further back. He chanted of bringing the two time lines together in the place where there was no time so the things that were out of place might be made right again. Harry finished the chant just as the last symbol faded completely, a bright light flashed through the room blinding both Albus and Harry.

When Harry's sight came back he looked around. He was still in the same room, and Albus was still rubbing his eyes. He was still stuck, the magic had failed.

At least that's what he thought, until he heard groaning around his feet. Harry looked down.

It was George Weasley and Luna Lovegood.

The magic had worked, just in a way that no one expected.

**Hope you enjoyed it!**


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